Talk to Someone
by mentalagent13
Summary: She pulls out her cell phone to call Gibbs, but she can't quite dial the number. She scrolls through her contacts to reach the name she desires. Hesitantly, she hits the call button and prays he answers. Rated T for my sanity.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I typed this ages ago and decided to fix it recently. I think it turned out quite well actually. Please leave a review on the way out. Thanks for reading!

**Disclaimer: **WHAT! I DON"T OWN IT? Duh, I'm in college.

**Talk to Someone**

Gibbs pulls her aside after the case. It had been a particularly hard one for her. The case itself had brought back many memories from long ago. They came rushing to the surface at the worst moments. She has been fighting them for days now and is finally at her wits end. She hasn't slept, and her energy is running low.

"Talk to someone, Ziva," Gibbs tells her.

"I am fine, Gibbs," she says, but he ignores her statement. He gives her his famous stare that speaks more words than his mouth ever will. Her attempt is much less menacing. Eventually, she breaks eye contact. He walks away from her as she gathers her things to head home. He gives her one more look before she steps into the elevator.

After eating a hasty meal, she collapses into bed. She reads midnight on her clock and still finds sleep elusive. God is she tired. No, she is absolutely exhausted; going this long without sleep puts unnecessary strain on her body that only creates problems at work. She has to find some way to sleep, no matter what that way may be.

She pulls out her cell phone to call Gibbs, but she can't quite dial the number. For once in her life she doesn't want to talk to Gibbs. That thought should disturb her, but she finds that it doesn't. She scrolls through her contacts to reach the name she desires. Hesitantly, she hits the call button and prays he answers.

Tony's phone vibrates on his bed side table and he grumbles. It is way too early/late to take a call. He buries his head in his pillow while his hand searches for the offending object. The buzzing continues for longer than he thinks it should. Something in the back of his mind makes him look at the caller ID. The name only makes him grumble louder.

"We got a case?" he asks her stifling a yawn.

"No," she answers.

"Well, what's up then Ziva?" Tony asks slightly concerned. His mind begins to function clearing the sleepy feeling. His concern sky rockets when there is a long pause on the other end. He wants to say something, but he is too busy quelling the panic that has flared up.

"I can't sleep," she admits quietly. In a rush of words she asks him if she can come over. She just needs some company after a long case. He doesn't have time to answer before she attempts to inform him she is fine. In fact, she insists that she is fine, vehemently.

Somehow though, he manages to convince her that coming over isn't a bad idea. He plays it off as though _he _is the one having trouble sleeping. He knows that it will be hard for her not to come if he asks. She finds herself outside his door slightly annoyed that he managed to get her to come to him.

Before she can knock, the door opens revealing Tony, barefoot in sweats. He is shirtless and his hair is a mess. It takes all of her self control not to laugh at the way his hair sticks up in random directions. He waves her in with a raised eyebrow. He knows exactly what she is internally laughing about. He shakes his head as he walks back to find a shirt.

She closes the door and slowly makes her way over to his couch. She chooses the end closest to the door so she can leave any time she wants to. He reappears moments later wearing an Ohio State shirt. He settles on the opposite side of the couch. He isn't sure what she wants from him right now, so he leaves it open to almost anything. His arm drapes across the back of the couch offering her physical contact if she wants it, but he is definitely not going to force anything.

"Gibbs told me to talk to someone. I do not need to talk. I need to sleep," she tells him simply. Her hand reaches for a weapon suddenly. She is not wearing her NCIS issue 9mm, so her fingers find the knife she has concealed at her waist. They tap up and down, up and down in a semi soothing manner. It is her way of calming without assistance. It takes a few minutes, but she eventually regains control. That fact in itself speaks volumes to him.

He doesn't speak, only watches as a silent observer to her obvious pain. He had seen the initial signs. It had recently gotten to the point that Abby has begun to worry. He knew she was out of control then. She would never consciously worry Abby. Thankfully, McGee made sure Abby was calm; leaving him the daunting task of making sure Ziva didn't inadvertently kill anyone in her sleep deprived state.

She had been doing fairly well until they found the tortured Lieutenant in the woods. The woman was the same height and build as Ziva, their ages also eerily similar. She interrogated suspects and followed leads like it were any other case, but by the end her strength had left her. He confronted her earlier in the case. She took offense and thought he had been questioning her abilities to work the case. He was too hurt by the accusation to tell her that in reality he was only worried about her.

Yeah, she had made it through the crucial weeks before she came back to the team. Hell, it was a miracle she was alive when they rescued her. She fought through the first year and never looked back. She became an American Citizen and smiled at him when he congratulated her. She forgave him for not being at the ceremony looking none the worse for the betrayal. Her father had been the most recent hurdle and she hadn't even batted an eye at it.

It's funny how one moment can change everything he muses. She is controlling, has to be in order to keep her façade intact. He knows she hides demons and a less than sketchy past. He also knows that she has grown and become less of an assassin and more human. She has feelings but lacks the proper knowledge on how to use them correctly. He sees that her inability to properly handle emotions drove her to him at this late hour. She doesn't want to appear fragile in front of Gibbs because that would mean relinquishing some of her control. It should be some sign of comfort or trust that she chose him. In reality…it scares him to death.

"Why can't you sleep Ziva?" he asks her softly once she stops her comforting movement.

"It is nothing Tony. I should not have come," she states and moves to get up. He grabs her wrist and gently tugs on it conveying the message that he wants her to stay. He should be afraid of her breaking his arm, yet he finds that he is not. She won't hurt him and somewhere deep inside he knows it. She gives his hand a strange look before sitting back down; this time beside him.

She crosses her legs and takes a deep breath. Her fingers begin to twitch and she has to fold them on top of her knee to stop the movement. He is content to wait all night if he has to. She will only talk when she is ready. It won't help either of them if he prods her into speaking. She initially came to _him._ He can't ignore that fact. For once in his life he finds it more beneficial to keep his mouth shut rather than fill the silence.

"Him, Tony. I keep seeing him," she says trying to brush it off as nothing.

"Who him?" he knows she needs to say it, to get it out. It's going to be hard, but it has to be done. He just hopes they survive the aftermath.

"Saleem," she says so quietly he can barely hear her. She begins the arduous task of recounting details he would rather not hear for the next hour. His arm drifts down to rest across her shoulder. At one point during her retelling, he grips her shoulder roughly. He is seeing red. She stops talking to take in his appearance. He mentally steps back from his own thoughts and focuses on her. She won't talk if she thinks it's too much for him.

"Sorry," he apologizes simply, "continue." She doesn't reprimand him for apologizing, and continues her saga. He is mindful of every move she makes, and he adjusts accordingly. At some points she shies away from his touch, other times her body language asks for it. There is one point where he actually finds her face buried in his chest as she mumbles that part of her story. He can feel her speak against him. It takes all his willpower not to run to the bathroom to lose his dinner once she resurfaces.

"Well it seems that we need to figure out what helped you sleep after you came back. Is there anything that sticks out in your mind?" he asks her. He is fairly sure there is a place or an object that helps remind her that she is where she belongs. She has ways of keeping herself in check and putting her mind at ease. Finding that place or thing again will help all concerned. Once she figures out what it is she can leave. He will then proceed to scream and curse and shred whatever happens to be in his way.

She studies him cautiously, her eyes asking permission for something he cannot define. Almost without thinking, he moves the arm that is draped over her shoulders back to the couch. She doesn't say anything; she only stretches out and allows her head to rest in his lap. He brings his hands down to rest one on her head and the other on her shoulder. She shifts her weight to lie on her back to see him. He leans back letting her know he doesn't plan on moving for the rest of the night.

He knows the minute she is asleep. His head is spinning with the information she has just given him verbally and nonverbally. The images of what she went through replay in his mind like one of his beloved movies. He tightens his grip on her arm, where his hand now lies. He needs to know that she is with him. He wants to feel the muscle that has reformed underneath her soft skin. She whimpers softly as his grip becomes painful. Surprisingly, she doesn't wake. Instead, she moves _toward_ his touch. He gapes at her for a full minute before he gets his mouth closed. Now curious, he gently tightens his grip on her arm. He increases the pressure little by little until the same sound emits from her throat. He body subtly moves toward him once again.

Finally, his thoughts take him to the plane ride two years ago when they brought her back. He was sitting across from her, watching her every move. Gibbs had chosen to sit beside her and truthfully Tony didn't mind. They made one stop to refuel and that was when Gibbs surprised him. He remembers re-boarding the plane and Gibbs sitting in his seat. He looked at Gibbs, confusion written across his features. Gibbs nodded toward the seat the he himself had occupied only a few moments ago.

He took the offered seat ready to get home. He knows he didn't initiate any contact between them, not sure if she wanted it. Suddenly, it clicks. She had been wrapped in a blanket not able to produce enough body heat to keep herself warm on the chilly plane. That had been a sure sign of her condition. He had woken just before they were given the call to hang on. He found her head resting on his lap and she was actually sleeping. She wasn't moving or screaming like she had been earlier on the trip. Gibbs had been able to calm her once she awoke, but Tony somehow managed to while she was asleep.

The next thought hits him like a ton of bricks. He is almost unable to comprehend it. Gibbs had known. The man had probably always known. He is an enigma. He didn't know if Gibbs had inadvertently pushed her here, or if he had known exactly what he was doing. Tony glances at the clock, 4am. He could still get three hours sleep before he has to get up and go to work. She moves a little as he readjusts into a more comfortable position. He squeezes her arm one last time to assure her that he is not leaving. He swears he hears a contented sigh before he finally succumbs to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **So…this was originally a one-shot, but it managed to morph into a two-shot. So I hope you enjoy the second part because my favorite 2 lines that I have ever written are in this chapter. Leave your thoughts at the door in the form of a review.

**Disclaimer:** Nope, can't say that I own it. College won't allow it.

Gibbs knows something is different when she walks in the next day. He's the boss he's supposed to notice these things. She greets him and boots up her computer a subtle smile on her features. She looks rested and oddly content. He idly wonders who she talked to. Oh, he has a few ideas, three to be exact; him, Ducky, or Dinozzo, not necessarily in that order.

He knows who she talked to the minute he walks through the elevator doors. The man looks like he has been to hell and back. Dinozzo greets Ziva throwing her a fake smile. Tony nods to Gibbs next before settling at his desk. She stares at her partner for a few seconds pen in hand. Her pen finds the paper again sooner than Gibbs expected it too. Thankfully, she is too absorbed in her work to notice how different Dinozzo actually is.

"Dinozzo, Abby's lab," he commands and heads toward the elevator.

"On your six, Boss," the younger man says and soon joins him. Gibbs hits the emergency stop button and Tony turns looks at him. Tony isn't stupid, Gibbs knows that. So he does what he does best. He makes a statement a question.

"She talked to you?"

"Yeah, she talked," his senior agent concedes. He stands waiting for the rest of the conversation. He knows he won't have to pry to get his answers. Tony will tell him simply because he has no one else to tell.

"You know what they did to her boss? If he wasn't dead I'd kill him again, this time slowly," Tony says as he runs his fingers through his hair. The haunted look the younger man gives him is enough to make him clench his teeth. Tony is blaming himself for something he had nothing to do with. He might have been the catalyst that sent her spiraling, but she was the same for him. Their lives had always been woven together performing an intricate dance that no one knows the steps to except them. If someone tries to cut in everything falls apart in a burning inferno of hate and denial. There is nothing they can do to prevent it anymore, no matter how hard they try.

"Go home, Dinozzo," he tells his Senior Agent. He can't begin to imagine what Dinozzo is feeling. Whatever it is won't be useful at work today.

"I can't, Boss. I can't…" Tony says as his voice drifts off. He nods his head, understanding why Tony needs to stay. On some primal level he has to be near her just to make sure she is alive, to make sure his imagination isn't reality. It is the Alpha male characteristic they both share. Protect those you care about. In Tony's mind there is no one who needs protection more. He sighs and hits the button to start the elevator again.

"Take tomorrow off, Dinozzo, no argument," he says as he steps off the elevator.

"Yes, Boss," the younger man answers.

* * *

><p>"Gibbs, where is Tony?" she asks him the next day. He can hardly believe she waited until lunch to ask him. Once the work day started she began her usual agitation rituals. One sure sign being the amount of time she spent at the filing cabinet next to her partner's desk. There is a difference between silent and subtle. Ziva does not know the meaning of the latter.<p>

"Home, Ziva, he took the day off," he tells her calmly.

"He did not tell me," she looks at him expectantly, "is he sick?"

"Don't know, Ziva" he says honestly. He really doesn't know with how Dinozzo looked yesterday. For all he knows Dinozzo might as well be sick.

"May I have the rest of the day off? We do not have a case," she reasons too quickly.

"Go. Rule number 12," he adds the last part awaiting her reaction. She has been instigating more and more between the partners recently. He wants to see how far she is willing to go. He knows she doesn't want to defy him, but he can tell it is harder and harder for her to stay away from her partner. It appears that their dance is ending its circling and beginning to come together.

She moves to stand in front of him arms crossed and anger in her eyes. They stare at each other for a few seconds before she slams her hands down on his desk. He doesn't jump having already expected her movement. He knows the entire bullpen heard it, but she doesn't seem to care. He feels their eyes watching the entertainment for the day. McGee sensibly leaves the instant her hands make contact with Gibbs' desk.

"Rule 12, rule 12, rule 12: it is all I hear. You wanted me to talk to someone, Gibbs. I talked and now he is at home because I talked. To hell with rule 12, Gibbs," she spits at him before walking away. He is not surprised at her outburst. He brought it upon himself.

"Ziva!" he says loud enough to get her attention from across the room. She stops at the elevator only because she has to.

"Rule 51," he tells her.

"What?" she asks finally exasperated with the situation.

"Rule 51, Sometimes you're wrong," he explains cautiously.

"Are you saying I am wrong Gibbs?" she asks him barely leashing her anger.

"No, Ziva I am saying that sometimes the rules are wrong. Don't screw it up," he states. She stares at him in shock. The elevator dings signaling its arrival. Before she can step onto it he gives her a kiss on the cheek not caring who sees. It's his way of reassuring her that both she and Dinozzo will have a job tomorrow morning.

* * *

><p>She knocks on his door a mere twenty minutes later. The drive should take twice that much time. He opens the door with a fake smile plastered on his face. She sees right through it. It worries her that he feels the need to cover up his obvious distress. The look in his eyes frightens her. That is something she never wants to admit. She sighs in order to give herself a minute to regain her composure.<p>

"How are you Tony?" she asks him as she enters the apartment.

"I'm fine Ziva, fine, just taking a movie day," he attempts to joke.

"Except there is no movie on." she tells him. To support her claim she points to the blank T.V. screen.

He mumbles incoherently about something that sounds like "women" and she suppresses a smile. He is still coherent enough to joke. That gives her hope. She doesn't want to lose him after telling him of the horrors she has seen. Not talking has been the only way she's ever known how to protect those around her.

"What is wrong, Tony?" she asks him again.

"Nothing Ziva, ok? Nothing," he says unconvincingly.

He plops down on the couch and sighs again knowing instinctively she doesn't believe him. She walks over to him and sits at the other end, content to keep the distance. Two nights ago she fell asleep in his arms. It doesn't matter that all she wants to do was get back there; she had to figure out what is wrong with Tony first.

"What is wrong, Tony?" she asks softly this time. A pleading lilt finds its way into her voice. She wants to reassure him the same way he did for her two nights ago. She told him everything that night and he hadn't pushed her to talk. He had just held her, and woke up with a sore back from sleeping in a sitting position. He had allowed her to use his lap as a pillow for the entire night.

"Everything, Ziva," he finally admits and stands. She follows his movements. He starts by circling the kitchen. His eyes take on the look of a caged animal before he walks back into the living room. He approaches the only spot on the wall that does not have anything hanging around it. He curls his hand into a fist at his side. It never uncurls even after it makes contact with the wall leaving a hole in the drywall.

"Tony!" she yells and grabs his arm pulling it down to his side. He attempts to shake her off, but she doesn't let go. It is not an option. His knuckles are swelling. She taps each one along with each of his fingers. He doesn't flinch. She breathes a sigh of relief knowing that he hasn't broken anything.

"My mind won't let it go, Ziva. I see him beating you. I see him torturing you. I see him and you..." he ends there unable to finish the sentence.

"I have moved on, Tony," she tells him her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. She begins to move her thumbs in soothing circles until his muscles begin to relax. He growls when she tries to lead him away from the wall. Finally, she places herself in between him and the wall. This forces him to take a step back.

"Ziva…"

"Healing is a process, Tony. It is a long process and people play a role in that process. Once that role has been formed and started it cannot be reversed," she tells him slowly.

"Roles in healing?" he questions. She tries to think of a way to explain it to him. "Abby is the hugger, McGee the goof that will always listen, Ducky the one to get advice from, and Gibbs is the one to run to in the middle of the night," she admits

He nods; he knows that each member of the team fulfills those roles perfectly. "Looks like you have this whole thing figured out," he says. She notices he seems comforted by the fact that she had people to rely on during the hardest time of her life. It bothers her slightly that he doesn't care that his name wasn't mentioned.

"There is one more, Tony," she says nervously. She finds the carpet extraordinarily interesting.

"Who?" he says generally confused.

"The hero, the savior, the one that comes no matter what the circumstance. The one that will drop anything and everything when the time calls for it. He waits in the shadows refusing to take the glory," she states and looks him in the eye at the end of her speech.

"He sounds amazing," Tony admits.

"He is," Ziva concedes

"So when do I get to meet this guy?" Tony asks generally curious.

"I just saw him 2 nights ago Tony. I do not know when he will return," she says playfully. His eyes light up with recognition and he smiles. Tentatively, he touches his fingers to her hand. She smiles back at him. He lets her guide him back to the couch in the middle of the room. Somehow, she manages to have him sit on the side farthest away from anything breakable.

"The hero, huh? When did I get that role?" he asks. She sees how serious he is when she looks into his eyes.

"The day you sat across from me in Somalia. You sealed it the day you forgave me. Most times you are my partner, but some days you are my savior," she says easily.

"I'm not sure you want to give me that role," Tony whispers. His usual confidence is gone the moment he realizes that _he_ is someone else's savior.

"It is too late, Tony. Once you are in a role you cannot be removed or replaced. You chose the role and I think you have done well in it. I would not want anyone else," she tells him sincerely.

He looks over at her and smiles. "So why did you come talk to me? You said yourself that McGee is the one that listens and Gibbs you can go to any time," he asks.

"Because I trust you Tony, more than you know," she answers. Thankfully, he accepts the answer without questioning her further. She leans toward him slightly and begins to drift off to sleep. He wakes her when she feels his lips on her forehead. She moves to look at him unsure of what to do next.

She places hesitant a kiss to his cheek. He responds by placing one on her lips. It is short and sweet and reassuring. She settles back into the position she was in two nights ago and he begins to stroke her hair.

"Once a hero, always a hero," she murmurs in her drowsy state. He grins and makes himself comfortable on the couch. His back will hurt in a few hours, but right now that doesn't matter. She is drifting off to sleep and he has done something he never thought he would. Tony Dinozzo the heartbreaker, womanizer, and general pain in the ass has done something incredible. He is so used to breaking things he never actually thought he could help someone heal. Tony Dinozzo has helped to fix someone, and he is so glad that it was her.


End file.
